


...Of My Journey Down A Road...

by Lavender_chan



Series: Things [2]
Category: Left 4 Dead, Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: F/M, Gen, Horror, Other, Post-Apocalypse, Romance, Thriller, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-06 04:39:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4208256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_chan/pseuds/Lavender_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to '...And The Things That Followed.'</p><p>You woke up. Everything was different, but different from what? You can't remember. Everything has changed.<br/>You are alone. You have to find something familiar, something to help you remember. Everything has changed.<br/>The future holds terror and hope beyond belief, but can you survive long enough to help the world? Everything has changed.</p><p>You. You have changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the Sequel of '...And The Things That Followed.'! Please enjoy the continuation of my most popular fanfic!

Your existence was pain. Everything hurt. Your body shook with the electric shocks that traveled your skin and bones, leaving a trail of ashes that stung. Your soul hurt as a fire burned your insides and you felt yourself leaving. Everything pulled you away from the pain, but you couldn’t leave, something was keeping you here...

Your mind hurt with all the thoughts and feelings being ripped from you; memories of times long past pulled piece by piece from the middle of the headache you thought was going to make your head explode. You saw places you’d never thought to see again--your home in the forest, your old college, your solo travels through Mercy City, and then suddenly you weren’t alone anymore.

You saw Hunter’s face, and no matter what you tried, you couldn’t reach out to touch his face. It was as if you had no body to do so with. You cried in frustration, a piercing shriek that ripped your throat and burned your lungs.

Then, Hunter’s face started to fade away; it, too, was also being ripped from you. Panic set in, making you feel like you were drowning. You struggled against invisible shackles, you used every bit of will within you to remember his face, his touch, everything. Even if he was the only thing you remembered…

Suddenly, you woke up.

Your eyes stung from the light that came from the small emergency lights that lined the bottom of the walls. Even though they weren’t meant to light more than needed, it was as if each one was a spotlight in your eyes. You hissed and covered your face with your hands.

A groan escaped your mouth. You felt weak, like gravity was holding you much too tightly but that feeling was quickly fading. You couldn’t remember where you were, or why you had been sleeping. Everything was a rush of colors and sounds in your mind that caused your body to ache.

You remembered a sickness. A sense of danger around every corner. A crushing despair that was centered on your right shoulder.

Sitting up was the hardest thing you’d ever done, but you managed it to try and looked at your shoulder. Your head didn’t really bend the right way for you to look at it properly, but you could see and smell the old blood that clung to it. Your nose also caught the smell of the acrid smell of infection, though you couldn’t see anything.

Standing was almost as hard as sitting up, but the strength was returning to your limbs. Joints popped and protested, and you had to stop and roll your shoulders out so that you could use them properly. You weren’t sure why you were so stiff, it felt like you had been sleeping for years and your body just was trying to learn how to work properly again.

Without warning, your leg gave out and you were on the floor again. Curses tried to pour out of your mouth and you winced when you heard nothing but groans and hisses. Your throat burned from the noises, but thankfully that pain was subsiding as well.

Standing the second time was easier.

The room itself didn’t draw any memories for you. It was a simple room made with cinder blocks and painted white. The lights still stung your eyes, but only if you looked directly at them. Your eyes wandered over where you had been lying, and a thought struck you.

Shouldn’t there have been someone else with you?

The room was empty, save you. Everything in you was telling you that you shouldn’t be alone. You didn’t know why, but it scared you that you were alone. Someone should have been lying next to you, someone familiar. But you were alone. Why wasn’t he here? Who was he? Why couldn’t you remember? Someone should be there. Someone-

_You make me feel like I can fly._

The echo made you quiver. You remembered he said that...or did he say it? Did you imagine it? You had to lean against a wall for support. A flash of a face. The feel of his growl in his chest.

Hunter…

It felt like you were suffocating and you stumbled toward the only door you saw. It lead to a second cinder block room, so you hurried on; everything was a blur around you as you hit the second door and nearly forgot how to open it. Instead of thinking--your thoughts were drowning in your brain--you threw your shoulder into it and it gave way like it was made of a wet paper towel rather than metal.

You stumbled out into the sunlight and your knees hit the ground as you tried to remember how to breath, but the air in your lungs wasn’t moving. Panic set in as you tried to remember how to work your lungs. Minutes dragged past in agony until you forced herself yourself to stop. You froze and counted to 10, trying to grasp some sense of sanity.

Your lungs didn’t move. You were still alive though. You weren’t blacking out, you weren’t dying...It was as terrifying as it was surprising.

The light around you was warm, but you didn’t feel the sun warming you. It didn’t affect you, like you stood apart from its influence. You looked around slowly and squinted as the sun reflected off of metal and glass. Most of the buildings around you were in some shape of ruin. It looked like someone had dropped a bomb and then left the fires to burn what hadn’t been blown to bits. There were no fires now, though you could still smell the faint traces of ash.

A mirror. The idea struck you suddenly. You needed a mirror.

Any cars on the street were demolished, but you caught sight of a gas station at the end of the road that wasn’t too badly destroyed. Maybe it had bathrooms that still had what you needed.

The eerie silence around you sent shivers, despite the sun hitting your skin. There was no one around; no bodies, no sounds, nothing. As if you were the only thing in existence.

You pushed into one of the bathrooms--you hadn’t bothered to check which, it didn’t matter anymore--and saw the mirror. You swallowed briefly, almost hesitating. Did you really want to see?

You pushed the thought away and moved in front of the mirror. You nearly screamed.

The first thing you noticed was your eyes. They were no longer the color you half-remembered. They were bright yellow and almost had their own glow. You swallowed hard. Your skin was pale, and your hair was in small tangled clumps around your head. Your clothes were filthy and you nearly fell over at the sight of the bloody bandages that covered your right shoulder.

Glancing around, you didn’t see anything to replace the bandages and so you left the bathroom and headed inside the gas station.

All the glass had been shattered, and one wall had collapsed. the roof and ceiling tilted dangerously in that direction, but you couldn’t hear any noise of it threatening to move, so you slowly made your way inside.

The glass crunched under your shoes as you moved forward. It was obvious that this place had been looted at least once, but you held out a little hope that something useful still survived. Most of the shelves were bare, but you moved to check below the front counter and felt a smile appear as you saw a first aid kit and a shotgun. In the looter’s rush, they hadn’t thought of looking back here and it was too your benefit.

You grabbed the kit and hooked it to your belt loop, intent on taking it back to the bathroom so you could see what damage needed to be repaired. You tried to curse again when you noticed the shotgun was broken--the trigger was missing completely--but a hiss was all that came out. It no longer hurt to make noise, but your tongue and throat seemed to have forgotten how to move to make words.

You decided to deal with that problem later.

For now, you headed back to the bathroom and started to undo the old bandages. You hissed again when you saw what was under them. A U-shaped wound was visible; sloppy, shaky stitches had been used to try and keep it closed, but the skin was trying to shrink away from the wound and pulled against the stitches, ripping in many places. You tilted your shoulder and saw an identical sight on the back of your shoulder and shook your head. That was a bite. A deep bite.

You poked at it, relieved that it didn’t hurt, but you felt like throwing up as you saw a deep yellow liquid ooze out, blood mixed with it. It sent a shiver and you pressed your lips together as you tried to clean the wound as best you could. It was like the puss was never ending. Finally, you just decided to wrap it up and hope you could find a doctor or something…

The bandage was already staining with the puss, but it was a minute amount. The next order of business, you decided, was to get new clothes. The shirt and jeans you wore were torn, dirty and stained with both blood and some kind of vomit. You shivered and shook your head. For now, clothes.

After that….Well, you had a name, Hunter...and you intended to find the man it belonged to.


	2. The Path

You immediately felt better in a fresh set of clothes. They weren’t easy to find, but the back of a store still had some clothes that fit you, so you slipped them on.

You also grabbed an overly large hoodie that zipped up the front, though you wrapped it around your waist instead of putting it on. You ignored the sense of familiarity you felt with it; it reminded you of Hunter and a few more details had pieced together in your mind.

You remembered the virus that struck the world, leaving the dead to roam and more powerful monsters to roam the world. You had a vague remembrance of the other types of infected, but it was hazy, like a mirage.

The city was a strange sight by itself. As you moved through the streets back toward the safe-house you woke up in, the ruin was obvious in one area but a few streets down and it was nearly untouched, except by some fires and looting. You shook your head and looked around. You felt lost; there was no telling where you should be going, or any clue of what you needed to do. The sun was starting to set, and the darkness was a welcome relief to your eyes. The blaring sun was unkind to your eyes. You had to squint and block the sun as well as you could, but as the shadows lengthened, you found that your eyes stopped hurting.

And the darkness was no longer a hindrance. There were no dark corners you couldn’t peer into. You felt like a cat, and when the sun disappeared completely, you felt a chill as you realized you could see better in the dark than in the day. The chill came from the fact that it was unnatural and reminded you of-

Well, you’d worry about that later.

For now, you would have to worry about where you were going. There were no clues. This Hunter-dude could be a hundred miles away and you had no idea which direction.

You shook your head and for the first time noticed what you’d done to the door of the safe-house.

It was only hooked--barely--by one hinge. There was a dent in the middle and you stood frozen. Had you really done that? You walked closer to it and reached out to touch it; you hesitated just before the metal was within reach.

As soon as you touched it, the door fell with a loud _crash_ and you jumped swallowing the lump that had appeared in your throat.

You shook your head, moving into the building; you entered the back room. Something must have happened to the door, you reasoned. You couldn’t remember much before you woke up, maybe some kind of explosion knocked the hinges loose, or some kind of animal or monster-

Monsters. That drew up a small memory. A flash of a scene, a large burly man with huge arms and shoulders, yelling and grunting.

_Tank._

You shivered. You remembered Tanks. And Witches. And Smokers, Jockeys, Spitters, and...hunters.

Hunter.

Your footsteps faltered and you landed on your knees. Hunter was a hunter; a killing machine that was a zombie, fast, strong, able to jump meters upon meters as it chased you down dark alleyways.

You swallowed but closed your eyes. That was true of most hunters, but Hunter had been different. You don’t remember why, or how or anything else, but you knew that Hunter wouldn’t hurt you. It should have been a hard thing to believe, but it came easy to you. Hunter wasn’t going to hurt you. He never wanted to. You opened your eyes and immediately spotted something amiss.

There were bullet casings on the ground near your legs. They seemed so out of place, but for a moment, you weren’t sure why. It was a mystery, but you reached out and picked up a shell casing; you could almost hear the gunshots that would have echoed around the room.

You could imagine the cry of a hunter as it jumped, trying to defend the body of the woman he loved. Your eyesight blurred and your head started to burn. Some memories were coming too fast. Flashes of light, a doctor--no, a professor--another hunter, who was _different_ , the last time you saw that woman and….

You shivered. You remembered dying.

In all its pain, in all its despair; you remembered Hunter lying next to you, his voice--was it his voice? Your imagination? You didn’t know--echoing in your mind. Then all was darkness. You tried to gasp for air again, and it worked to a fashion; you felt air moving into your lungs, but you weren’t breathing. Your lungs weren’t working. Of course they didn’t.

You were dead.

The whole idea of you being dead...it stunned you, but for some reason it wasn’t wholly unbelievable. Everything in your mind was jumbled and a mess, but you looked around again.

Someone had come into the safe-house after you died. They had fired their guns, but you could see bullet holes on the wall across from you; they seemed to drift upward, like someone had pushed the owner of the gun and made them miss on purpose. They hadn’t hit Hunter, or so you hoped. 

You stood on shaky legs and turned to go back into the first room. There had to be more clues. Your body started the motions of breathing and you were shocked to find that even though you could smell before, now that the air was moving through your mouth and nose, you could smell better than before. You recognized the smell of the Professor. She had the slight smell of old perfume, something stained into her clothes, you were sure.

You smelled gunpowder, and it was recent. You moved closer to the open doorway of the safe-house and you caught the fresher scent of the Professor. She smelled cleaner--she’d had a chance to shower, perhaps--and you could smell...more people, strangers.

Had the Prof come back to try and save you? Did she take Hunter with her? You stepped outside and turned in a circle. The wind had long since carried their path away, but now that it was dark, you could see spotlights in the distance, pointed to the sky. Their was a haze of light in that direction, as if there were a hundred lights polluting the dark sky.

You had your lead. You were going toward the lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter~!


End file.
